


Green Card

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Series: The Borders Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-02-03
Updated: 2001-02-03
Packaged: 2018-11-10 13:38:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11128023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Fraser has to pick up a few pieces before he can try to make amends.This story is a sequel toCrossing Over.





	Green Card

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

()

 

 

Title: Green card: Part 1  
  
Disclaimer: Mistakes in this are mine. Fraser and RayK are  
Alliances...  
Damn!  
  
Pairing: Fraser and RayK  
  
Mail:  
  
Note: Hey, what do you know? I got me a series. You really need to  
have read the other two to get this piece, so go. Now. Read and come  
back. Thanks to Jaydaxxx, for, well, just being her I suppose. Also  
a big *wave* to Sasha just for taking an interest. If things go to plan  
the next one should see it all made better. Feedback wantonly craved  
at the above address.  
  
  
Green card: Part 1  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Despite my resolve, I've been standing outside his building for the last  
hour, trying to work up the courage to go talk to him. I'm used to standing  
still for so long, but Ray isn't. That's one of the things I really  
like about him. You can't keep him still. That time he was dressed  
as a Mountie and he told me he was impatient? I nearly laughed then,  
but managed to hold it back. Which is typical of me I suppose. Would  
it be so wrong to let people, especially Ray, see that side of me? To  
just relax with him as he so obviously does with me? Although, even  
when he is relaxed, it's like he's ready to be off on a moments notice.  
Ray's whole body moves like he's impatient. Like it has somewhere to  
be this time last Tuesday. I try not to imagine the kind of energy that  
would come into play if we where to share a bed as lovers.  
  
A patrol car slowly comes up behind me and it forces me to tear my gaze  
away from Ray's window.  
  
�Hey. You there.�  
  
They flash a light on me and for a second I'm blinded, then I hear a  
voice I recognise.  
  
�Hey, Fraser right? Constable Fraser?�  
  
It's a car from the 27th.  
I suspect that someone must have reported me to the police. I smile  
at them.  
  
�Good morning officer.�  
  
He gets out of the car, but I notice with some surprise, he still keeps  
his hand close to his gun. I can't blame him really. He doesn't really  
know me and I have only ever seen him in passing.  
  
�You alright Constable?�  
  
I nod, doubting he'd like to hear that I'm not, that I'm anything but.  
  
�Fine thank you. I was just on my way up to see detective Vecchio.�  
  
He seems satisfied that I'm not a threat and gets back in the car. Everyone  
knows that the crazy Mountie works with the crazy detective. By the  
time I turn back to look at Ray's window, the light has gone out.  
  
This nearly sends me home again, the�well, the only word to describe  
it really is fear. It's a palpable, living thing nestling in my stomach  
and it's trying to make me run from this.  
  
It's the thought of this that sets me off into his building. If Ray  
can tell me how he feels, then surely I owe him the same honesty. The  
same courage.  
  
I'm on his floor now and am shocked to discover that the door I'm about  
to knock on is slightly open.  
  
�Ray?�  
  
I push my way into the darkness, a little afraid of what I might find.  
I keep telling myself as I walk into the room to reach the light switch  
that Ray is stronger than that, that he wouldn't do anything silly.  
  
Light floods the room as I find what I'm looking for, and I see Ray.  
He's lying on the floor, next to a broken lamp. Hurrying to his side,  
I check for a pulse.  
  
A breath I didn't know I was holding escapes me. Strong and steady.  
Only then do I notice the smell of whiskey.  
  
Thanking God that he's all right, I make him more comfortable before  
heading into the bedroom.  
  
As I suspected the room is a mess. But then again, that's so typical  
of Ray as well. He's too busy to care about something like neatness,  
there's always something far more important to be doing than tidying.  
Only when the world and his brother are taken care of does Ray devote  
any time to himself. We're both like that in a way, except I never allow  
myself to just _rest._ To do the things that I'd love to do. There's  
always justice to uphold, a mask to make sure never falls out of place  
and a sense of duty that never is allowed to let up. God forbid that  
anyone should see that I get tired sometimes.  
  
I remake the bed with fresh sheets, knowing that if the position was  
reversed I'd appreciate someone doing that for me.  
  
Feeling better I go back into the living room, looking at him.  
  
Even in his stupor, I can see the traces of the pain I caused. He's  
cut his hand somehow and even with the affects of the alcohol he still  
looks upset. Bending down I can't help but try and wipe away those lines  
of worry from his face. Or maybe it's just that I want to touch him,  
to feel that he really is ok.  
  
I suddenly come to realise that I really like to touch him.  
  
Realising that this is not the right time, I struggle to get him into  
a position that will allow me better leverage to lift him. Once that's  
done, I'm carrying him into the bedroom.  
  
Setting him down on the bed, I see to his hand first. It's not as deep  
as I at first thought and is taken care of in a matter of minutes.  
  
Next comes the other problem.  
  
I carefully remove his t-shirt and get my first really good glimpse at  
him.  
  
I've seen Ray naked before, but this is different. Now I know that Ray  
wanted to share this with me, it sends a shiver through me just to look  
at him.  
  
The urge to touch him, to feel his heart beat under my hand is so strong,  
so tempting its as if I'm in risk of losing my soul. My hand reaches  
out and its like I'm no longer in control, that I'm watching through  
my own eyes while someone else traces my finger over his chest, feeling  
the small nub that becomes hard with a careful twist, hearing on some  
level the moan that comes from him even in his sleep.  
  
Suddenly my hand darts back and I clutch it to my chest as if to prevent  
it from doing it again. I can't believe I did something so�so�despicable.  
  
Act like a nurse with a patient I tell myself, only to have my inner  
Ray tell me he didn't know I was so kinky.  
  
The thought makes me smile despite my earlier, shall we say, trespass?  
And I soon have him undressed and in bed.  
  
I turn out the light and I make to tidy up the broken lamp in the living  
room, and once that's done I get a couple of aspirin and set them beside  
his bed with a bottle of water from the fridge, noting, with some amusement  
and a hint of trepidation while also looking in his freezer, that he  
keeps a pair of trainers beside his ice-cream.  
  
Everything that I can do for now is done. I settle myself on his sofa  
and pull the curtains to let the first of the early morning light creep  
into the room.  
  
All I have to do now is talk to Ray when he wakes up, and hope that somehow,  
he can forgive me for being so afraid. For not having the courage he  
had to take such a leap, especially when I wasn't ready to catch him.  
  
  
  
The End  
  
  



End file.
